


Amazing Grace

by winterflame4



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cancer, Death of a friend, Funeral, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28566507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterflame4/pseuds/winterflame4
Summary: The reader receives word that a dear friend has died, and is to sing at the funeral. Somehow, Sam and Dean find her just when she needs them most.Originally featured on my Tumblr account, Carry On My Wayward One-Shots*Slight editing for misspellings/word substitution for smoother reading.





	Amazing Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Y/N: your name

You had just gotten the call that you were dreading.

You sat on your bed in your room at the bunker, staring at the ground in a mixture of emotions. Disbelief and sadness made your mind fuzzy and blank all at the same time upon hearing that your friend’s condition had gone south.

A few months before you started hunting with the Winchesters, one of your close friends had told you they had cancer. Of course, you were scared for them, but both of you were confident. Your friend was a fighter, and both of you thought (he/she) was too stubborn to die this early on in life. So, you’d stop by when your friend was sitting in their usual chair, chemo treatment being delivered by IV, and you’d talk it up like nothing changed. Well, there were days when your friend (he/she) was more tired than other times, and you took it easy, but things seemed to be looking up. After you started hunting with Sam and Dean, you’d still stop by your hometown’s hospital to pay (him/her) a visit. (He/She) knew you were away on a job, but you never got into specifics with them. You still wanted to protect your friend from the horrors you had seen.

None of those horrors combined could have prepared you for this moment, though.

One of your mutual friends from back home had called to tell you that your dear friend had passed away just an hour ago, and it felt like someone had pulled everything from under you. You were aware that they were still talking, but the world ceased to exist for a moment in time. You really thought (he/she) had looked remarkably better last week when you had visited…

“Y/N? You still there?”

You snapped yourself out of your trance. “Yeah, sorry. What was that?”

_“I hate to be bringing this up now, but…before (he/she) died, (he/she) told me to ask you to do what they asked you to do the last time you talked. Does that make sense? They…they didn’t clarify, just said you’d know.”_

Yes, you knew. How could you forget?… 

_1 week before…_

_“Do you sing anymore?” Your friend had asked, now laying in their designated gurney, post-chemo._

_You shrugged. “Sometimes, but not as much,” you had replied._

_“That’s a shame, you know that? I’ll be honest, I was kinda jealous when I first heard freaking angel music coming out of your mouth.”_

_You laughed. “Seriously? I think you know as well as I do, that wasn’t angelic in the least.”_

_“Shut up a take a compliment,” (he/she) said with a grin._

_“Okay, fine,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes._

_There had been a moment of silence before your friend spoke up. “Hey, Y/N?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Could you do something for me?”_

_You sat up a little straighter. “What’s up?”_

_They had hesitated only a moment. “In case I end up kicking the bucket, could you sing something at the funeral?”_

_“Come on, don’t talk like that. You’re gonna beat this thing,” you urged, not wanting this to get dark._

_“Okay, but say I don’t,” your friend had continued. “Would you do it? Even if we’re like, zooming around the home in wheelchairs when I die?”_

_You had considered your friend’s words carefully, but you didn’t need to think about your answer. “Of course I’ll sing at your damn funeral,” you said, cracking a smile. “And I’ll sing at your wedding, at your kid’s birthday party, heck, I’ll even sing when we’re being idiots in the mall.”_

_(He/She) had smiled. “Amazing Grace?”_

_You nodded in agreement. “Amazing Grace.”_

“It makes sense,” you said to the friend on the other end of the call. “It was about singing at (his/her) funeral. I’ll do it.”

Your friend said that the funeral would be two days from now, and you jotted the details down on a pad and paper before saying goodbye and hanging up. Not trusting yourself to keep from crying, you immediately got up and started packing for the trip. Simultaneously, you tried to come up with an excuse to tell the brothers, seeing as they didn’t know where you went on your free time, and you hadn’t wanted to tell them. You would have to leave now to make it to your hometown, so after your bag was packed and you composed yourself, you exited your room and went to the library to tell them you were leaving. You found Dean and Sam in the library, and put on your best lying face.

“Hey, one of my old friends called and wanted to hang out back home,” you said as you stood in the doorway. “I’ll be gone a couple of days, but I’ll be back if you need me home any sooner.”

“Okay, call us when you get there, you got it?” Dean asked.

“Well, duh,” you said with a smile.

Sam wished you a safe trip, and then you left in your car (you had kept it, even though you were hunting with the Winchesters in the Impala). You made the whole trip without crying, and called Dean to let him and his brother know you’d gotten there safely before tucking in for the night, your face still dry.

* * *

The day of the funeral had come more quickly than you wanted it to, and you reluctantly changed into your chosen funeral attire before setting out for the church your mutual friend had specified on the phone. As soon as you got there, you were met with the faces of your deceased friend’s family, as well as a couple of mutual friends, including the one who had called you. Every so often, your eyes would flick over to the coffin where you knew your friend’s body was, a gesture not of your volition. After everyone had sat down and the pastor started talking, you let your mind roam backwards to the last time you’d been in a church with your friend. Neither of you really liked it much, having to dress up on a Sunday and everything, but (his/her) favorite song had been Amazing Grace. It was the one thing they got out of the service, so it was understandable that they would ask you to sing it at their funeral.

“Right now, I’d like to ask one of the deceased’s closest friends to come up here. Y/N?”

The pastor’s words snapped you from your reverie, and you rose from your seat and made your way to where the pastor stood. He directed you to the microphone behind the podium before taking a seat off to the side, giving you the floor. After a shaky inhalation, you began to sing.

_Amazing Grace_   
_How sweet the sound_   
_That saved a wretch like me_   
_I once was lost_   
_But now, I’m found_   
_Was blind, but now_   
_I see…_

You thought only of your sweet friend as the reverent words left your lips and filled the church. You remembered that Sunday, each detail vivid, all throughout until you ended the song. Without applause, you left for your seat, but not before touching the coffin and saying your silent goodbye. The service ended after a prayer not too long afterwards, and you mindlessly drifted out of the church with the others in attendance. You were almost to your car when your phone rang.

“Hello?”

_“Look behind you,”_ Dean’s voice said.

Eyebrows furrowed, both in confusion and in an effort to keep from crying, you turned around. Sure enough, there was Dean, standing with Sam, near the steps that led up to the church. You hung up and walked over to them, dreading what they’d say. You had lied to them, after all, and you figured at least Dean would express some anger. However, he didn’t look mad. They both looked very…subdued.

“You guys okay?” You asked, looking between them.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Sam asked in reply.

Were you? Of course not. And damnit, you couldn’t stop the tears. You looked down and the waterworks started of their own accord, your body telling you that it had enough of you bottling it all up inside. You felt warm arms around you—Sam—and couldn’t help it as you sobbed into his shirt.

“We heard you in there,” he murmured, holding you close. “That was a beautiful tribute.”

“Remind me to take you with us to karaoke,” Dean said gently, but in a way that was meant to make you smile. “You’d kick everyone’s ass.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. Before you all hit the road for the bunker, you told them about your friend. You told them about your strong, vibrant, stubborn friend, about the laughter and tears, everything. They listened, laughing along with you, being silent when it was appropriate. Right then, you remembered the tail end of your last conversation with your friend, from that last day in the hospital.

_“You’re not out there alone, are you?” (He/She) had asked._

_“Without you with me? ‘Course I am!” You joked._

_“I mean it, Y/N. If you’re going all lone ranger on me, I’ll summon the strength necessary to kick your ass.”_

_“Okay, I have people. Happy?” You laughed._

_Your friend smiled. “Yes.”_

Happy didn’t begin to cover what it meant to have Sam and Dean around. You didn’t question how they found you, how they discovered your lie. They were there for you, and wouldn’t let you be alone with your pain. Never.


End file.
